


A Lapse of Memory

by stydia247 (adrinette247)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Newt doesn't die, Stiles Stilinski is Thomas (Maze Runner)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrinette247/pseuds/stydia247
Summary: (A Maze Runner/Teen Wolf Crossover)After the events of the Death Cure, the FBI find the survivors of WICKED's trials and returns them to their actual homes and families.Thomas is returned to Beacon Hills, still haunted from the deaths of his closest friends in the final battle against WICKED.  His old friends, the McCall Pack, are happy to have their friend back, but little do they know, Stiles Stilinski will never ever be the same again.Thomas and Minho have been separated too, and they will most likely never see one another again. Until they both receive a message from someone they thought they would never hear from again...





	1. Never Again

Stiles Stilinski was his name.

He remembered everything.

His best friend Scott, his apparent crush, the strawberry blonde banshee Lydia Martin and all of the McCall pack.

And whilst the FBI had returned him back home to his father and the pack, in Thomas' mind, Stiles was still gone.

He had changed. It had all changed.

Three years can do that to a person.

He would never be the same again.

Thomas stared back at his reflection in his bathroom mirror, sudden flashes, relapses of memory appearing in his mind's eye; the ceiling caving in, the bullet entering his best friend's body, the smiling faces of everyone in the Glade before the war against WICKED began.

A single tear slid down his cheek, and he switched out the bathroom light, returning to his apparent bedroom, all the harrowing events in the years he had been missing from Beacon Hills still haunting his every waking moment, and turning his dreams to nightmares, never leaving him in peace.

Yes, Stiles Stilinski may be Thomas' _real_ name, and he had been returned to his _actual_ home, but Stiles Stilinski would _never_ be the same.

Never again.


	2. The Return of Stiles Stilinski

The jeep rumbled and creaked into the school parking lot.

It had barely turned over that morning, from sitting vacant and undriven for three years, but it eventually roared into life once again.

The car was silent the whole ride to school, until Thomas couldn't stand being alone with his thoughts anymore and turned on the jeep's old radio, which barely worked anymore.

 _Roscoe_ , he remembered he called the jeep all those years ago when he was first allowed to drive it.

Although he had had his memory restored, all the events in his life prior to waking up in the Box were still fuzzy and blurred in his mind, like trying to look through a stained glass window.

There were many gasps of shock, and then total silence as he emerged from the jeep's cab. The loudest came from the McCall pack, as Scott McCall finally saw the face of his best friend again, alive and well.

Scott had never thought the day that Stiles would return would ever come.

The werewolf began to tear up, Kira hugging onto him in an attempt to comfort him, as Scott relived the moment he discovered his best friend missing, and the fury he felt towards Gerard Argent, Allison's psychotic grandfather when he discovered that he had disposed of Stiles somewhere, and the pain and sadness he felt when he realised that they would probably never find or see Stiles ever again.

The werewolf's vision became blurred, and tears started to fall fast down his face when Stiles didn't even notice them, and walked past the shocked students gathered at the entrance, and into the main building of Beacon Hills High School.

He didn't even look for them.

What happened to his best friend?

But there was no doubt about it, as the pack trudged solemnly after Stiles into the school, that Stiles Stilinski, had indeed, returned. 


	3. Memory Lapse

_"Please, Tommy, Please"_

Newt's voice rang out, clear as a bell, in his mind, and Thomas tried to block out the last words of the blonde British boy, begging for death; just as he attempted to shake off all the staring of the entire school as he walked through the halls.

It had been like that all day, but then again, Thomas expected no less. Beacon Hills was a small town, and it's not everyday that a boy comes back seemingly fine after three years of being 'kidnapped'.

It was lunchtime now, and Thomas was attempting to find a place to sit where nobody would really see him or bother him.

Thomas, or Stiles as everybody kept calling him, was headed to the library.

He had had to correct the teachers on his name all day, and although they gave him odd looks at his change in name, they obliged.

Thomas knew he should probably go and talk to his old friends, but he couldn't bear to see the looks he was sure to receive from them, like he did with his father a few days prior, when he barely recognised them and they saw how much he had changed.

Noah Stilinski, a near stranger to Thomas now, had embraced his son with an extremely large smile of relief as soon as Thomas stepped through the front door, but that smile had turned to mix of pain and disappointment when 'Stiles' had struggled to barely recognise his own father.

What would make the pack any different?

So in short, Thomas was attempting to avoid them.

He had nearly reached the large double doors leading to the safety of library, when multiple footsteps, the sound of people running, echoed along the almost empty hallway behind him.

"Stiles!"

Suddenly, he was engulfed into a large hug from multiple people, and he looked to see the faces of his old friends.

_"Thanks, I think I got it."_

_"What the hell is a Stiles?"_

The dark haired boy with the crooked jaw, the brunette in a green military style jacket, and the petite strawberry blonde in heels were the only ones he sort of recognised.

They were Scott, Allison and Lydia.

"Stiles, we missed you so much!" Lydia exclaimed, pulling away from Thomas, and adjusting her bag before it fell off her shoulder.

"Stiles, we never thought we'd see you again." Allison smiled and let him go too.

"Uh... Scott you can let me go now." Thomas muttered slightly awkwardly, as his former best friend continued to hug the life out of him, to the point where Thomas could barely breathe.

Scott also let him go, the tension rising slightly, "Sorry Stiles," Scott released him, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "It's just, we all missed you so much."

Thomas inwardly cringed at his old nickname, he didn't even remember his real name, all he knew was that it sounded a bit like 'mischief'. He tried to not let on how much he could actually remember of his old life, as the pack all stared at him expectantly.

"Uh... yeah... me too you shanks." The pack stared at him in confusion, Scott looking to the floor dejectedly at Thomas' reaction to seeing them all again, and Thomas inwardly groaned at himself for slipping up and using Glader slang in front of them.

"What happened to you Stiles? We were all worried sick." Allison butted in, in an attempt to ease the tension in the group.

"Um... my name is Thomas,  Allison." If anyone in the pack weren't already staring at him in complete and utter confusion, they sure were now, "And..." 

_"Great, we're all bloody inspired."_

"I'm not ready to talk about it just yet."

The pack tried to nod and smile at Thomas reassuringly, but he could tell that their minds were spinning in confusion and sadness.

_Thank you for being my friend._

Thomas' anxiety went into overdrive, the repressed emotions he had been feeling the last few days threatening to spill out in front of near total strangers. Even though he knew in the past they were his best friends, he couldn't cry in front of them, so he turned sharply, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him away from the hallway, and into the safety of the large library, where he hoped, no one would ever find him again.


	4. The Boy We Used To Know

The pack stared in utter shock, as Stiles, or Thomas as he was apparently called, turned on his heel away from them, then ran like hell into the near barren, dusty library.

"What just happened?" Lydia questioned, her mouth agape in utter disbelief, "What happened to Stiles?"

Allison shook her head slowly, "He's not the boy we used to know Scott. He's changed."

It was true, even down to Stiles' appearance.

The Stiles the trio remembered was scrawny and defenceless, and would almost always collapse on the floor after he finished track and most importantly of all, most of the time, a smile never left his face. Now he was lean and almost taller than Scott, with muscles that never used to exist, and since they had seen him, a smile never crossed his face, not even when he first saw them again. 

Scott just smiled sadly at the rest, "Ally's right, he's not the best friend I knew three years ago."

"I wonder what happened to him, while he was gone." Lydia mused, looking down at her, for once not all that interesting, brown wedges, in an attempt to hide her pain.

_When is a door not a door?_

Allison shuddered, "Maybe, something happened to him, that made him change." she uttered softly.

Lydia knew what she meant, and just hugged her best friend, a futile attempt to comfort them both.

"We need to find out." Scott spoke up finally, "Whatever it was, we need to help him get through it. He smelt like pain guys." Scott winced as he said the last sentence, and sniffed in the direction of the library, 

"I've got his scent, come on."


	5. Riddles

The pack, a determined Scott and Lydia, an apprehensive Allison and a rather confused Liam, Malia and Kira trailing at the back stormed into the library after 'Stiles', following Scott's enhanced sense of smell around the dusty maze of wooden bookcases and comfy chairs.

"Guys, wait."

They were all suddenly halted by Allison, who stepped in front of Scott and Lydia when the back of 'Stiles' no longer spiked and messy hair came into view, as he sat in the farthest most hidden corner of the library, 

 _Most likely an attempt to avoid us,_ Allison thought.

They were all looking at her, and although no words came from them she knew they were all currently questioning her actions.

"I know you want to help him Scott," she began gently, already gauging their reactions, and Scott opened his mouth to say something back but she quickly cut him off, "But I know what it's like to want to be left alone, and to not want to talk about it."

_Do you know any riddles, Allison?_

"I don't think all of us going up to him and bombarding him with questions is going to do any good."

"But Allison-"

"Maybe I should talk to Stiles by myself and find out whats wrong, since I know what it's like to want to shut everybody out."

They all winced when she said that, except Liam just looked more confused than ever.

But they let her go, and sighing, Allison turned and walked in the direction of her former friend.


	6. Nogitsune

"Stiles."

The boy didn't look up, but visibly tensed knowing that he was about to be approached by someone he used to know.

So Allison tried again.

"Thomas."

He still didn't look up at her, and it was only when she stepped a bit closer to the her former friend's chair that she saw the light tear tracks lining his face, and the fact that the boy in front of her sounded as though he was struggling to breathe.

She recognised and understood this behaviour.

Because she had experienced all of this just last year.

So she tried to get through to him.

"It's not a bad thing to let people see you cry." she said softly, sitting in the opposite chair and placing a tentative hand gently on his shoulder, despite the fact that Thomas flinched and attempted to back away from her when she did, "Because then they can help you with what's wrong."

Thomas looked up at her then, an expression of uncertainty covering his tear-tracked face "You wouldn't understand." was all he said, voice husky from crying and attempting to breathe steadily.

"Trust me, I do." she said firmly, knowing what it felt like to not want to burden someone else with your own pain, "You told Lydia it was OK to cry in front of you once," and when his expression became visibly confused, she remembered that he had forgotten them all, and so she described Lydia by the thing Stiles used to correct people most about, "The strawberry blonde girl in the hallway who spoke to you." Allison explained, a slight smile on her face as she remembered Stiles profusely correcting everyone and anyone on the colour of Lydia's hair.

At the mention of the words _strawberry blonde_ , Thomas inhaled sharply.

And although this confused her, she carried on, slightly unsure of what reaction her story was going to gauge from Thomas.

But regardless, the pack trusted him, and he was still pack whether he remembered them or not. He had a right to know. And they were going to get Stiles back. She was sure of it.

But right now, as his friend she needed to help him, before he had a panic attack. That was, if he wasn't already on the verge of one already.

"There was a fox spirit," she muttered, voice barely audible, tears threatening to slip down her own face, "And it was pure evil." the brunette looked away from his knees and towards her sharply, and it was clear now that Allison had gained his attention, "It was called a Nogitsune."

"And it took control of me." she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes, Thomas' blurred face morphing into an expression of shock and horror, "It wanted to cause chaos, strife and pain. Everywhere." 

Her own mask, her own pitiful attempt to hide her own pain began to slip through her fingers like sand, finally breaking after a whole year of pretending the horrors she and the pack experienced in the year prior hadn't affected her as much as they truly did.

"And it made me kill him."


	7. Void Allison

Thomas just gazed at the other brunette in silent, teary eyed horror as she too began to release her own pain, her own tears.

 _Pull yourself together Allison._ she tried to reprimand herself sharply.

It didn't do any good. She wasn't her mother. She couldn't take an emotionless attitude or approach to emotional situations. And she was glad of it.

So, although slightly breathless with salty drops soundlessly falling down her face, a gentle thump as they fell onto her woollen, comforting, jumper, she continued - her own pain still gripping onto her firmly and refusing to release her.

"I had a boyfriend. His- his name was Issac. You- well _Stiles_... use-used to know him," she began shakily, flashes appearing in her mind's eye... "When I became Void, her army killed him. _I_ killed him." She broke off then, the scene reappearing before her like an unending nightmare - except it wasn't a nightmare... it was the horrifying reality -  _t_ _he Oni, the Pack desperately fighting to get back Lydia and the real Allison, Issac stopping the Oni from killing Malia, the Oni's katana piercing his heart..._

She gasped for air, fighting off Void Allison's memory flashes as if they were inner demons. She felt a pain in her chest, as if in that single moment, a katana had stabbed her too, as if she was about to die too. She couldn't breathe...

"Allison, Allison!" She snapped back into reality to see Sti-Thomas gripping her firmly by the shoulders and attempting to shake her out of her thoughts before she had a full blown panic attack, "Breathe." Thomas said sharply - though his expression was kinder than before, releasing his grip on her shoulders.

It was then that it occurred to her that perhaps he had the same problems too. He seemed to know what he was doing.

She could practically sense the Pack's concerned gazes on her back, and did as she was told, until her heart didn't feel like it was going to beat out of her chest, and her breathing became steadier once again. There was still nothing to stop the tears though, that were still streaming down her face and drenching her once soft, _dry_ jumper.

"When I said that whatever you're going through I understand, I mean't it. You can tell me what's wrong or what happened, you trust me, you can trust them." she finished, more confidently than before, motioning to the pack, who were, as she thought, watching the pair closely from the opposite side of the quiet library, "We can help you."

♡

Thomas was unsure of what to do. There were only a few people in what he remembered of his life that had shown such raw emotion in front of him. And this was a near stranger, who seemed to trust him with such a heavy secret. So he did the only thing he could think of:

He opened up too. 

"While I was gone," he began unsteadily, and through her tears, Allison managed a slight smile at the action of trust, "I was trapped in a place called the Glade. And-"

He stopped short. He couldn't do it. Not here. Not now. Despite the fact that he felt he could trust Allison, he just couldn't shake the feeling that others were listening to his every word...

He wasn't going to tell her about Newt - not just yet. He couldn't. But he was going to open up to her... just a little bit. 

His eyes began to sting painfully just thinking about what happened. What he had done...

Despite the fact that his old friends wanted to know what had happened to him, they were just kids. They wouldn't understand. If any of them would, it would be Allison. And just because they felt they were ready for information meant that he was ready to give it to them. 

"And when we tried to escape... most were killed, by these creatures we call Grievers. I saw most sh- of my friends die right in front of me." Tears began to leak from his own whiskey eyes and down his face like some sort of painful never ending river. His chest felt tight, and he began struggling to breathe.

 _Drowning_. He felt like he was drowning in his own guilt and pain.

"Why were you kidnapped in the first place?" Allison asked gently, which snapped him back to reality, and he too took his own advice, breathing in and out steadily, his own shallow breaths echoing around the near silent library.

"I- we... were being experimented on... by-" 

He was cut off- however by a loud ding resounding from his jeans, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to see what it was.

It was a message from an unknown number.

He looked at it, confused and slightly fearful of the words displayed on his blindingly bright new phone screen.

 _I'm coming,_  it read.


End file.
